Death by Pineapple
by Ayla Pascal
Summary: Ron's dead, but he comes back as a ghost to ask for Hermione's help in solving his murder. Draco/Hermione


Author Notes: Thank you to aigooism for the beta!

Hermione stared. She blinked a few times and stared again. "You're dead," she pointed out unnecessarily.

Ron floated over and folded his arms across his chest, looking rather cross and transparent. "I know," he said grumpily. "It's such a bore."

"Ah," Hermione said faintly. "I see." She took a step backwards. Ron was sending chills down her back by staring at her. It was nothing like when he was alive. Back then, they were pleasant tingly chills. Right now, it felt like somebody was walking – no, stomping – on her grave.

"You don't see," he told her.

"What?"

Ron floated closer to her. "I know that look on your face," he said. "You don't understand why I'm here, and you're pretending."

"So why are you here?" Hermione asked. Now that the surprise was wearing off slightly, the pain of losing one of her best friends was beginning to come back. She looked up at him. "I've missed you."

"How'd you think I've felt?" Ron said grumpily. "You know, this materialising thing is really hard. I was hanging around at my own funeral, but nobody could see me. By the way, tell Harry that he really ought to try to learn how to fasten his robes properly if he's going to wear nothing underneath."

Hermione laughed slightly, the laugh softening the pain somewhat. "So?" she asked.

"Oh!" Ron exclaimed, looking sheepish. "Right. I need you to solve my murder."

Hermione coughed. "You need me to do what?"

"Solve my murder," Ron said irritably. "You didn't think that perfectly healthy twenty-three year olds just dropped dead from nothing, did you?"

"Well, no," Hermione said, frowning. "But they said that you had a severe allergy to pineapples. There was pineapple juice in the biscuits, and you had an allergic reaction."

Ron leaned forward. "But how did the pineapple juice get in the biscuits?" he said, sounding mysterious.

"At the manufacturers, I suppose," Hermione said practically. "They ruled your death an accident."

"I'm always careful about what I eat," Ron said pointedly. "Don't you remember?"

Hermione did remember. Ron always checked the ingredient lists for pineapples and pineapple juice. "But murder?" she asked. "Who would do that?"

"That's what I need you to find out!" Ron said, in exasperation. "So I can move on and stuff. Do you want me haunting you forever?" He tilted his head and looked down at her, a glint in one of his eyes. "Although, last month, you did have quite a nice negligee on when you were with that Mark fellow."

Hermione could feel her face turning red. "Stop it!" she ordered.

"So how'd it work out with him?"

Hermione shrugged. "Only a couple of dates," she said. "Stop spying on me!"

"But it's so boring," he complained. "I need something to do. It's not like I can read a book or something."

"You didn't read even when you were alive," Hermione pointed out.

"Good point," Ron said, with a sigh. "Now are you going to help me or not?"

"Of course," Hermione said decisively. If Ron said that he had been murdered, well, he would know, wouldn't he? She frowned. She wasn't sure how to phrase the next question delicately. "Do you, uh, remember anything about the murder?"

"Nothing," Ron said. "Last I remember, I was drinking a glass of pumpkin juice. D'you know how much I miss pumpkin juice? Just the thought of it makes me thirsty!"

Hermione winced as she saw Ron drool slightly. Transparent drool hit her kitchen floor and vanished. "How about your day before you were murdered then?" she asked. "Did you do anything unusual? Speak to anybody unusual?"

Ron frowned. "Now that you mention it," he said, sounding thoughtful. "I spoke to Draco Malfoy. It was a routine work thing, but he did seem angry about something." He turned to her. "You don't think..." he said, trailing off.

"He's a prat," Hermione said, "but I don't think he's a murderer." Even to her own ears, her voice sounded uncertain. "I guess I'm going to have to go and talk to him."

Ron nodded and looked wistfully in the direction of the chocolate cake sitting on her bench. "You don't think you could just hold it up for me so I could float through it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

* * *

Hermione stormed into Draco's office.

Draco looked up at her and raised one pale eyebrow. "What on earth are you doing here, Granger?" he demanded.

She hesitated. There was no easy way to say it. How on earth did one go into somebody's office and accuse them of murder? In the Muggle movies she watched as a kid, people shouted and threw things, but that really wasn't her style. "I need to know if you killed Ron."

Draco stared at her. "What?"

Hermione breathed in deeply and let it out. "You were the last person to talk to Ron the day he died. You were yelling at him. What were you yelling about?"

"That's none of your business. Besides, do you think the Aurors didn't talk to me?" Draco pointed out irritably. "It's been a whole year. Why weren't you here earlier?"

She had to admit that he had a point. Suddenly, Hermione looked at the sign on Draco's desk. She blinked. "You're a detective?"

"I'm a private investigator," Draco said primly.

A sudden thought occurred to Hermione. She definitely had no experience in solving murders, and she honestly didn't think Draco had murdered Ron. Given that Draco seemed to be a detective, this seemed like a fortuitous coincidence. She pulled her copy of Ron's file and placed it on the desk. "I presume you've had experience?" she asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh," he said quickly, "in investigating crimes. Yes, of course."

"Well, then," she said briskly. "I'm hiring you to investigate Ron's death." She pointed down at the file. "That's all the information I have."

With a dubious expression on his face, Draco picked up the file. "My fee is five Galleons per day. But I need to read the case first before I decide."

Hermione bit her lip. That was quite a bit of money. Then again, this was for a good cause. Ron was her friend. In any case, she really didn't want him haunting her for the rest of her life. That was definitely not going to be conducive to getting any future boyfriends. "Done," she said.

Draco flipped the file open. "Death by pineapple?" he read, sounding incredulous. "What, was Weasley crushed by a giant pineapple or something?"

Hermione stared at him. "No," she said.

"Oh, good," Draco said, looking relieved. "That's always been one of my nightmares."

She blinked. "You were scared of being crushed by a giant pineapple?"

Two bright spots of colour appeared on Draco's cheeks. "It was a magical pineapple," he said haughtily. "No Muggle pineapple could ever crush a Malfoy."

"Ah, I see," Hermione said. "So you were scared of being crushed by a magical pineapple. It is much clearer now." She nodded gravely. "A magical pineapple is much scarier than its Muggle counterpart."

"Shut up," Draco grumbled as he flipped through the rest of the case file she had handed to him. "What makes you think that Weasley was murdered anyway?"

Hermione hesitated. She didn't want to tell Draco that she was visited by Ron's ghost. Being visited by a ghost wasn't particularly unusual in the wizarding world, but generally ghosts didn't go around asking people to solve crimes. Usually, ghosts just floated around looking scary. Occasionally, ghosts were quite friendly like the Hogwarts ghosts. "There wasn't an autopsy," she pointed out. "It could have been murder."

"A what?"

"An autopsy," Hermione repeated. "You know, where a coroner cuts open a body to discover if somebody died of natural causes."

Draco looked slightly nauseated. "Barbarians," he muttered.

Hermione folded her arms primly. "Sometimes autopsies can catch things that magical means cannot."

"Like diseases?" Draco inquired, still looking slightly green. "There are a lot of Muggle blood-borne diseases."

Hermione made a dismissive hand gesture. "You're getting off track." She pointed to the file Draco was reading. "Will you take the case?"

Draco pursed his lips. "Well," he said slowly, "I might be able to fit you in."

She rolled her eyes. It was pretty obvious that Draco didn't have that many clients. She'd been here for over ten minutes, and she hadn't seen a single other person walk in. Draco hadn't gotten any owls or Floo calls either. She saw no good reason for Draco to pretend that he had lots of cases. Still, Hermione thought, it was probably better to keep her mouth shut.

"I'll take it," Draco announced. He pushed his chair back with a scrape and stood up. He held out a hand for her to shake and after a second, she took it gingerly. "You won't be sorry that you came to Malfoy Investigative Services."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Hermione muttered under her breath. She thought she might have been regretting it already.

* * *

"The first rule of a good investigation is to go to the crime scene," Draco announced.

Hermione resisted the urge to smack him about the head. "I'm not paying you to tell me the obvious," she said tartly.

"So I presume you've gone to the crime scene?" Draco inquired, tilting his head sideways and staring at her.

Hermione hesitated. "Well, no," she finally said. She had definitely thought of going to the crime scene, though, but she didn't think Draco would accept that excuse.

"Well then," Draco said, sounding surprisingly professional as he rubbed his hand together. "We'll go now."

She frowned. "We might need to Floo Pansy first."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "I'd forgotten that the git was living with her."

"Don't call him a git," Hermione said, irritated. She had just been thinking that Draco seemed like he had changed since he was a prejudiced prat back when they were back at Hogwarts. Now, she wasn't so sure.

"I'd forgotten that _Ron_ was living with her," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "I never knew what she saw in him."

Hermione honestly couldn't see what Ron had seen in Pansy either. She had seen them together a few times, and they had always seemed like an ordinary loving couple, but she couldn't seem to remove the idea of Pansy as the pug-nosed Slytherin girl who hated her and her friends. It seemed that first impressions tended to stick hard. She thought about responding to Draco but decided against it. There was no point in getting to an argument.

"I can see those little cogs in your head moving, Granger," Draco said, sounding amused. "D'you know that your facial expressions are really easy to read? You just went from surprised to thoughtful to irritated and then to decisive.

She glared at him.

"And now," Draco told her smugly, "you're annoyed at me."

"How on earth did you guess?" Hermione said asked in mock surprise.

Draco stuck his tongue out childishly at her, and to her surprise, Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

"Well, that was useless," Hermione pointed out.

"Not entirely," Draco said, munching on a muffin that Pansy had given him. "I got food."

She glared at him. "What kind of detective are you?"

"The kind that you hired," Draco said bluntly. "She offered you a muffin as well."

Hermione looked down at the bag she was carrying that contained a chocolate muffin. "Yes, well," she said irritably, "I'm not eating it."

"I have to eat when I can," he told her. "It keeps my strength up."

She resisted the urge to lean over and punch him on the arm. "So, great detective," she said sarcastically. "Where do we go next?"

"Well," Draco said through a mouthful of muffin. He swallowed and licked his lips. "She really makes a very good muffin."

Hermione wondered if she could squish her muffin on Draco's face and Apparate away before he could follow her. She looked over at him. Despite the fact they were strolling along the streets of Diagon Alley, with Draco eating a muffin, he still looked impeccable. There must be spells on his clothes to repel crumbs, she decided.

"Anyway," Draco told her, finishing off the last of the muffin. "The next step is obvious. We must go and get the records of the biscuit company from the Ministry."

* * *

They spent the next few days poring over the case documents Hermione already had. "These Aurors were incompetent," she said, frowning.

Draco looked up from where he was browsing files. "Why do you think I started this?" he asked, waving his arms about to encompass the office they were sitting in. He wrinkled his nose. "As much as I hate to admit it, Muggle law enforcement is better."

"I'd certainly hope so," Hermione said. There were holes she could drive a broomstick through in the case details, and it seemed like the Aurors had barely interviewed anybody. This was for somebody as famous as Ron Weasley. She shuddered to think how badly they handled other cases. "Maybe these Aurors were new," she guessed dubiously.

"It's possible," Draco said. "I recognise one of the names. He was a year above me in Slytherin."

Hermione scooted her chair over to peer over Draco's shoulder. "He should have been paired with somebody experienced," she pointed out.

"As I said," Draco said. "The private investigation business is very lucrative. I'm surprised you didn't hire one when Ron died."

Hermione bit her lip. It was rare that she would miss a fact like this about the wizarding world. Usually, she was very well-versed in wizarding customs. Draco turned his head to look at her. She was suddenly aware that they were sitting uncomfortably close together. "Well, I've hired one now," she said hastily, pushing her chair back.

* * *

"Six months?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Isn't that taking bureaucracy a bit too far?"

"That's how long it takes to get Ministry files through official channels," Draco said. "And that's the fast-tracked system. I used some of the money you've paid me so far to fast-track our application."

Hermione took a deep breath. They had almost finished going through the files she already had and hadn't found much other than the obvious incompetence of the investigating officials. She suspected that any incriminating records would be in the Ministry records. Except that was going to take six months, which was a ridiculous amount of time.

It was then that Hermione remembered her first job. Whenever she had gone downstairs to the Department of Files, there had been a scrawny man who had always flirted with her.

"I think," she said slowly, "that I might be able to get us those Ministry files much sooner."

Draco looked up in surprise. "Why didn't you say so before?" he asked.

"I only just thought of it," Hermione said defensively. "And it'll involve calling in a favour."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't the freckly git your friend?"

"I don't want to talk to this person," Hermione admitted. She suspected that she was going to have to promise to go on a date with him, and she shuddered inwardly at the very idea. He was creepy with his long hair and pincer like fingers. He reminded her vaguely of a praying mantis.

"It's either that or waiting another six months," Draco pointed out.

Hermione had to admit he had a point there. It had taken Ron a whole year to figure out how to communicate with the living. He was getting more and more impatient by the day. She didn't think he wanted to wait for another six months. "Okay," she said, with a sigh.

* * *

After she promised the creepy praying mantis man a date in the future (the far future, she told herself silently), Hermione stretched and stood up. She doused the fire and turned around to look at Draco. "My contact promised to owl over the records in the next few days," she told him.

Draco nodded.

Hermione opened her mouth but then closed it again. She wasn't sure what to say. The silence stretched between them like a wall. Draco was staring at her with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Do you..." Draco started to say.

At the same time, Hermione blurted out, "It's getting late..." She could feel a flush rise up on her cheeks when she realised that she had spoken at the same time as Draco. He stopped and indicated for her to continue. "It's getting late," she began again. "Do you want to get some food?"

"I was about to say the same thing," Draco said. "Do you want wizarding or Muggle food?"

Hermione stared. "I didn't know you ate Muggle food," she said tartly.

He shrugged. "I'm cosmopolitan."

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh in disbelief. Out of everybody she knew, Draco was probably the least cosmopolitan. Even right now, after they had been digging through public records of the company for hours, he still hadn't rolled up the shirt of his perfectly unwrinkled silk robes. She had never seen him do anything that didn't exemplify his pureblood status. "Muggle food then," she said and was disappointed when he didn't look alarmed at all.

"Do you have anywhere in mind?"

"How about you choose?" Hermione suggested, a brief smile crossing her face. "After all, you're so _cosmopolitan_."

"Well," Draco said, giving her a bland look, "there's always McDonald's."

"Very haute cuisine," Hermione retorted. Inwardly, she winced. The last time she had tried Muggle fast food, her stomach had rebelled. It seemed like her stomach couldn't tolerate her childhood favourites any more.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "I've always found it delicious," he said smoothly.

Hermione cringed.

"Or if you aren't partial to the cheeseburger, we could go out for the exquisite chicken created in KFC," Draco offered.

"Er," Hermione replied.

"I've heard that pizza makes a lovely dinner as well."

Hermione threw her hands up. "Whatever you want," she said. A part of her wanted to see the usually fastidious Draco Malfoy eating a slice of pizza dripping with cheese and oils. It was worth the indigestion.

* * *

Hermione glared at Draco. "You lied." She stared at the fancy Muggle restaurant with apprehension and then down at her very casual outfit. She had worn jeans and a t-shirt. It was rather old t-shirt given that she hadn't ventured out into the Muggle world for quite some time.

Draco smirked.

"How on earth did you find this place anyway?" she demanded. Draco didn't strike her as the type to go frequenting Muggle restaurants.

"I've had clients with Muggle interests," Draco told her. "They introduced me to the Muggle world and to the joys of Muggle fast food."

She stared at him suspiciously.

"The Muggle world may be inferior to the wizarding world in most respects, but it does a brilliant cheeseburger," Draco said, a rapturous expression on his face.

Hermione was beginning to realise that he seemed to be in all seriousness. "You know that the cheese is practically plastic."

Draco glared at her. "I could have taken you to KFC."

"We could still go," Hermione offered. She was still feeling quite self-conscious in her clothes.

Draco grabbed her by the wrist. "Come on," he said, dragging her forward. "I booked and everything."

Hermione shivered slightly. She could feel a tingly sensation sliding up her arm at his touch. It was ridiculous. She couldn't be finding Draco Malfoy, of all people, attractive. She looked sideways at him. He really wasn't attractive, not in the conventional sense. He didn't have a strong masculine chin, and he certainly wasn't tall and ruggedly handsome. Instead, his chin was somewhat pointed, and his skin was pale and almost porcelain coloured. He was tall and slender; in a certain light, he could almost look like a statue.

"A booking under Malfoy," Draco said.

The waiter checked his book and nodded at both of them. "If both of you will come this way," he said, gesturing for them to follow him.

With a longing look at the entrance, Hermione followed.

* * *

Hermione groaned as she stood up and stretched. She pushed a curl of hair out of her eyes. They had spent the last several days going through Ministry records of _Wizard's Best_, the company who had made the biscuits. While she knew that employee records would be boring, she hadn't expected half the files to have blank spaces, where information had been redacted.

When she had demanded to know why, a supercilious employee of _Wizard's Best_ had told her that the redacted lines contained company trade secrets.

She stared at the files. There was no possible way that she could learn company secrets by knowing an employee's star sign. Yet, there it was, a blank, white space. In fact, she couldn't figure out why they had bothered collecting that information about their employees to begin with. It wasn't as though star signs meant anything.

Hermione suddenly reconsidered. There were lots of things in the wizarding world that didn't make sense to the Muggle rational mind. "Draco?"

Draco leaned over. "Yes?"

"Are star signs accurate in the wizarding world?" she asked. In all the literature she had read, it said that they weren't, but she wanted to know what a pureblood thought.

Draco stared at her. "Hermione?" he said slowly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you might be a little overworked."

"I'm not," she said impatiently. "Now, tell me. Do purebloods believe in star signs."

"No," Draco said. "Of course we don't. Now, maybe you should go and have a rest. You look a little peaky."

Hermione ignored him as she went back to the records. She read through a few more records before she became aware of a niggling feeling at the back of her neck. She sat back with a sigh. She was beginning to get a headache. Perhaps Draco was right, and she was a bit overworked. After all, over the past week, she had done nothing but work on the case. She had even slept in Draco's office for a few evenings. Although, that was more because Ron was floating around petulantly in her house. He seemed to have made himself at home at her place. Every morning he got her to put Muggle movies on her TV and he would watch them non-stop.

A steaming cup of hot liquid was placed underneath her nose, and she almost screamed. "Coffee," Draco said, as he held the cup. "You need it."

Gratefully, Hermione took the cup and sipped.

* * *

"I think I've found our answer," Draco announced, waving a very thin file in the air.

Hermione jerked up from where she had fallen asleep over several folders. There was a suspicious wet patch on one of the folders and the corner of her mouth also felt damp. Quickly, she moved another file to cover it. "Oh, good," she said faintly. "Tell me it was some sort of conspiracy. A former Voldemort supporter wanting to kill one of Harry's friends?"

Draco snorted. He flipped through the file. "I don't think so," he said slowly.

"Damn," she said as she stood up. Her head felt like it was filled with cotton wool. "It would have made a good story." She shook her head slowly and felt slightly better. Looking around the desk, Hermione spied the remnants of coffee sitting in a mug. Taking out her wand and shooting a heating spell at the coffee, she downed what was left.

"That was disgusting, Granger," Draco told her. "You could have gone to get another one."

Hermione shook her head. "No time to lose," she said. "Now, where do we need to go?"

"Hogsmeade," Draco said. "It seems that our culprit lives in one of the more ramshackle buildings there."

Hermione frowned. It certainly didn't seem like the lair of an evil mastermind.

* * *

Draco leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. To Hermione's amusement, she realised that he was trying to play the Good Cop Bad Cop routine. To her greater amusement, it actually seemed to be working. Robert was shaking.

"We know the following facts," Draco said flatly. "Firstly, we had all of _Wizard's Best_ almond biscuits tested. Guess what we found?"

Robert turned pale. "Uh..." he said, sounding confused.

"We found the biscuits manufactured before a certain date didn't contain pineapple juice, and the biscuits manufactured afterwards didn't have pineapple juice either. Imagine that!" Draco leaned forward waggling his fingers and smiled maliciously. "The company deemed it an accident, but we know better."

"What does that have to do with me?" Robert blustered. "The Aurors didn't prosecute me, after all."

"I think we all know that the Aurors aren't necessarily the best investigators," Draco said. "This has everything to do with you, Robert."

Hermione frowned inwardly. This was a strange interrogation method. Even she was on tenterhooks, and she already knew what he was about to say. She could only wonder how Robert felt. Looking over at him, she could see that he was shifting in his seat, looking like he was about to wet himself in terror.

"I didn't do anything!" Robert blubbered, a fat tear running down his cheek.

"Oh, yes you did," Draco said, smiling maliciously. "When we checked the records, guess who we discovered was working for _Wizard's Best_ during those two pineapple laden weeks?"

"Not me?" Robert said hopefully.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It was you," he said pointedly. "You just spoiled my speech." He pushed his chair back and leaned forward. "For that you shall pay."

Robert cringed back into his chair, like a turtle retreating into its shell. "I didn't mean to!" he cried as Draco drew closer.

Immediately, Draco leaned backwards and sat down in his chair again. "Well, well, well," he said, "this is interesting. First, you claimed that you didn't do anything. Now, you claim that you didn't mean to. Next, we might find out that you had a grudge against Ronald Weasley. Not that I would blame you. He was complete git."

Robert looked up in surprise.

Hermione took that opportunity to speak up. "I'm one of Ron's best friends," she said evenly.

Now, Robert looked terrified, and Draco had a slightly miffed expression on his face. Hermione suspected that he was disappointed that his interrogation techniques hadn't worked.

"It was an accident!" Robert said quickly as Hermione took a step closer.

Hermione paused.

"You'd better explain faster, my dear fellow," Draco said. "I'm afraid she's been after your skin for months."

Robert's face drained of blood. "It was a game!" he exclaimed. "We were playing this game with pineapple juice. We didn't mean to get it in the vats, I swear! I didn't think any had gotten in. And I was fired over it and everything."

Hermione studied his face. It looked like he was telling the truth, which didn't bode well for Ron. If Ron wasn't hanging around as a ghost because he was waiting for his murderer to be brought to justice, it might mean that he was going to be a ghost forever. Now, that wasn't a fate she would want for her worst enemy, much less than one of her best friends. Besides, she certainly didn't want Ron haunting her for the rest of her life.

"Game?" Draco asked curiously. "What kind of game."

Robert turned red. "I don't want to say," he muttered.

Draco leaned forward and pursed his lips. "My good man, this is vital to our investigation," he said. "Now, you don't want to be brought in front of the Aurors for this, do you?"

"Uh, no," Robert said, sounding dubious.

"Well, then," Draco said, in satisfaction. "I expect to know every detail of this game."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Robert began to explain in a stammer.

* * *

"I've solved your case."

"It didn't turn out to be a case," Hermione complained.

Draco poked her in the arm. "Don't complain," he told her. "Ron wasn't murdered. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Not if that means he's going to be a ghost for the rest of eternity and is going to haunt me for the rest of my life," she pointed out.

Draco frowned. "Yeah, that would be unfortunate," he admitted.

Hermione bit her lip. The case was finished. She had set up an automatic payment transferral, so all she needed to do was stop the payments into Draco's account. "Well," she said awkwardly. "I suppose I'd better get going then."

Draco nodded.

She was about to turn away, when Draco stepped forward and did something that surprised her. In fact, it shocked her down to her core. It wouldn't have been more surprising if he had announced that he secretly dressed up as the Easter Bunny in order to deliver presents to the children of Hogwarts every year.

Hermione stepped back in shock. "Did you just kiss me?" she blurted out.

She was amused and just slightly offended when she realised that Draco looked equally surprised. "I think I did," he said slowly. "Why did I do that?"

"Why are you asking me?" Hermione demanded. "I didn't do it!" She licked her lips without realising it and suddenly could taste the coffee Draco had drunk earlier.

"It was for luck," Draco said quickly. "I meant to say good luck with your life."

"Ah," Hermione said. "I'm sure that kissing is a good luck gesture _somewhere_ in the world."

"It must be," Draco said.

Hermione could see a tiny frown appear on his otherwise smooth forehead. "Well, thank you," she said slowly. Her lips were still all tingly. Before her rational mind could take over, she leaned over and kissed Draco again, slowly and sweetly.

"What was that for?" he asked as she drew back.

"Good luck," Hermione told him, two patches of red appearing in her cheeks. "In your detective business."

"You're quite good at it yourself," Draco told her.

Hermione nodded. It was going to be a pain going back to her ordinary job. She had taken several weeks of annual leave that she had saved up to investigate this job. She hadn't expected the weeks to be fun though. "Thanks," she said.

It was as if a Muggle light bulb had gone off over Draco's head. "I say," he said. "Perhaps you would like to join me?"

She looked at him dubiously. "Join you where?"

"As a detective," Draco said in exasperation as if it was obvious. "We make a great team."

She frowned.

"It was just an idea," Draco said hastily. "You don't need to take it. In fact, I've become used to working alone."

"I'll do it," Hermione said, just as quickly. The last few weeks of her life had almost felt like she was back at Hogwarts with Ron and Harry, investigating things. She had missed that part of her life. Although, it hadn't been the most exciting few weeks, it was several hundred times more interesting than her ordinary Ministry job.

"Very well then," he said. "I'll get a sign made up saying Malfoy Investigative Services, now with Granger."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It's not going to say that," she told him.

Draco smirked at her. "Oh, yes it will."

* * *

"You mean I wasn't murdered?" Ron asked.

Hermione noticed that he was floating rather erratically. "No," she said. "It really was an accident. Imagine that, huh?"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "What's he doing there?"

Hermione bit her lip and took a step backwards into Draco. He took that opportunity to grab her hand, in support, she supposed.

"And what," Ron said, his voice taking on a dangerous lilt, "is he doing holding your hand?"

Hermione looked over at Draco who was smirking. She amended her previous assessment. Draco wasn't holding her hand in support. He was doing it to spite Ron. She wrenched her hand away, ignoring Draco's pout. "He isn't holding my hand," she told Ron, innocently, deciding that denial was the best path.

"He was," Ron said sullenly. "You're seeing the prat, aren't you?"

"Uh," Hermione managed to get out before her mind went blank.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "How could you? He murdered me!"

"Ron," Hermione said patiently. "We just established that it was an accident. A very unfortunate accident," she emphasised.

He didn't look convinced. "Malfoy could have done something to make you believe that. He could have you under a curse or used some sort of potion on you."

She rolled her eyes. "Nobody killed you, Ron."

"Well, you didn't know that before you started seeing him, did you?" Ron said triumphantly.

He had her with that one. It was true, she had to admit, even though she wasn't entirely sure what it had to do with anything. "Draco's not a murderer," Hermione said. Even she'd managed to figure that out after her first meeting with him.

Draco stepped forward. "It's true," he said earnestly. "I'm not a murderer."

Hermione poked him in the ribs. "You're not helping," she hissed. In fact, from the expression on Ron's face, she surmised that Draco had just made the situation worse. Ron looked ready to explode.

"You see?" Ron said, whirling on Hermione. She shivered slightly as he floated over her. "He denies it!"

"So?" Hermione said, puzzled.

"They always deny it," Ron told her, folding his ghostly arms across his chest.

Hermione threw her hands up. "Draco didn't kill you, Ron. Nobody killed you, Ron." Briefly, she wondered if it would help if she switched the order of the words, but she doubted it. "You can move on now."

Ron had a dubious expression on his face as he closed his eyes. He screwed up his nose and bunched up his cheeks.

"He looks like he's constipated," Draco commented.

Ron opened up one eye and narrowed it at Draco. "Shut up," he snapped. "I'm trying to move on here."

Hermione crossed her fingers behind her back as she watched Ron continue to make that rather constipated face. After a few seconds, it became apparent to her that despite his efforts, this wasn't going to work.

"No use," Ron told her, as he opened his eyes. He glared at Draco.

"Maybe," Hermione said cautiously, "there's something else keeping you from moving on?" She really didn't want to think of the other possibility, that Ron could be a ghost for the rest of eternity. It wasn't really a fate she wanted anybody to have, least of all one of her best friends.

Ron frowned.

* * *

"What do you mean you haven't gone to talk to Pansy yet?" Hermione demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ron looked sheepish as he floated higher. "I do miss her," he admitted.

Hermione considered throwing something through Ron's head. He was beginning to frustrate her as much as he ordinarily frustrated Draco. "Don't you think that she might miss you too?"

Ron gave her a puzzled look, and she wished so much that she could hit him on the arm. "I didn't think of that," he admitted.

"Maybe you'll go and visit her now?" Hermione suggested, surreptitiously crossing her fingers behind her back. Perhaps this was what they were looking for. Perhaps this would help Ron move on. She wanted him to move on. If he ended up like one of the ghosts like Nearly-Headless Nick who could never move on ... it would be unfortunate.

Ron looked pensive but finally nodded.

* * *

"You mean to tell me that all the git needed to do was go and tell Pansy that he loved and missed her?" Draco asked incredulously.

"That's the gist of it, yeah," Hermione admitted. Normally, she would be defending Ron, but even she had to admit that he had been a major prat. "Then he sort of glowed and then disappeared. I guess he's Moved On."

"Maybe he wanted to hang around for the past year in order to spy on you," Draco said slyly.

Hermione regretted ever telling him about Ron's peeping tom actions. "Oh, shut up," she said. "Now about your sign..." She looked up at the doorway to Draco's office and waved her wand several times. The sign above Draco's doorway now read: Granger and Malfoy Investigative Services. It shone with the special sparkle of newness that only a magically created sign could have.

Draco scowled at her.

Hermione smirked. "It's alphabetical," she told him smugly.

Draco folded his arms across his chest. "We in the wizarding world do not ascribe to those Muggle beliefs."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You don't believe in the alphabet?"

Draco didn't answer but simply stared down his nose at her.

Hermione poked him. "Don't be a twat," she said, leaning over and kissing him lightly on the lips. "After all, you're the one who likes Muggle junk food."

Draco made a grumpy noise as he kissed her back.

_-finis_


End file.
